


But in the end I learned it rains in hell

by Buttercup_ghost



Series: I'm not afraid of god, I am afraid of man. [1]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Post-Undertale Genocide Route, Post-Undertale Soulless Pacifist Route, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 11:04:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11599317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Buttercup_ghost/pseuds/Buttercup_ghost
Summary: And angels could be bad.Frisk insists they're a good person. You disagree.(How could they be, when you can still feel the ghost of dust on your hands?)





	But in the end I learned it rains in hell

Frisk insists they were a good person.

You disagree.

That wasn't to say you thought that you were a better person than them, no, you were perfectly aware of the hatred thrumming just under your skin, in your veins, but that was the thing; you didn't pretend.

You didn't pretend to be a good person, didn't try to fool others into thinking that you were, you changed nothing about yourself, preferring brutal honesty over lies and manipulation. The only exception was on your deathbed, toriel fretting over you, asking if you had any idea why you were like this.

Frisk, however, pretended.

They pretended to be kind, pretended to be your friend, pretended to be your partner, pretended that there was something to live for, to kill for.

They tricked you.

 

You used to hold some kind of respect for flowey. Much like yourself, his words were brutal, honesty lacing each one.

Until he lied to himself; told himself that frisk was you and you were frisk.

You lost respect for him in that moment.

And so you bring the knife down, trying to forget he's asriel.

Hypocrite.

 

Frisk gives you their soul.

The world is so close to destroyed, hollow and void, only ashes of the love you used to hold left, and all that's left is a nod—but frisk says no. They want to reset. They think that they're above repercussions; think that you'll let them get away with manipulating them into killing your family. They are shaking. You don't care. Something drips from your mouth, eyes gouged, as you laugh, laugh, _laugh_.

And then it's all black.

  
Every night before bed they whisper to themselves. They've been trying to ignore you this run, trying to pretend the last run never happened, everytime you say something vaguely reminding them of what they've done, they clinch, whimpering. You giggle genuinely, taking sadistic joy in this—whispering in their ears, _you know you deserve this, right?_

Every time they insist they're a good person, you just scoff.

  
You used to love the monsters.

They were family, more than your human parents, kind to you. At first you thought it was a trick, years of abuse and pain making you distrustful, but eventually you decided that it wasn't, that monsters were pure, humans were not, waging war on these innocent creatures, the first to give you genuine _love_ —you wonder if it was in their DNA, if they were inherently evil. It felt like it. You hated humans—said the word like an insult, hissed it, vile. _Humans_.

You thought monsters were different.

You were willing to die for them.

You _did_ die for them.

You loved monsters, and hated humans. It was simple. Black and white.

Then you awoken in frisk.

 _Human_ and _monster_ were synonyms.

There wasn't good in the world.

 

  
Every time you laugh you're crying.

As you carve into your skin—no, correction, _their_ skin—as sans walks in on you and panics, as you're thrashing and screaming and laughing as you're held back, you're crying. Even if there's no tears, you're crying.

You thought frisk was a angel, but they really were a _human_ , weren't they?

  
You shred all their clothes as they fight for control.

 

Toriel gives them your old sweater, saying it's because they ruined all theirs, it's only for now. You laugh in their head, and front when a picture of them is snapped, a eerie smile pulled wide on your face. They've replaced you.

It's then you decide.

 

You twirl the dusty knife, a bit, a smile stretching on frisks face so wide it is painful.

Actions had consequences.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from this : https://youtu.be/Rn0_lw_Lst0


End file.
